Breakaway tentative title
by Jay'a and Shiane
Summary: Breaking away from tradition has its consequences and rewards. Teaser quotes-Chp 1: "Everyone has trouble with their parents sometimes." "Because you would know." 2: "And you have an ego! Like wizard like bird." Told from Draco and Harry's POV. NOT slash
1. A Favor in the Park

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat in the Gryffindor common room quietly doing work. Hermione had an Arithmancy test the next say, Harry and Ron were working on Transfigurations essays, and Ginny was doing some early revision for her upcoming OWLS.

Hermione checked her watch. 10:30. The rest of the common room had thinned out since earlier. She put her quill down. "Hey," she said, getting the attention of the other three, "have you noticed anything odd about Malfoy lately?"

"Why," Ron said without looking up, "would I waste precious moments of my life noticing anything about Malfoy?"

"Well, I ran into him today," Hermione began.

Harry grinned. "Did he fall over?" Ginny snorted at the pun.

"He did, as a matter of fact, and so did I. I dropped all of my books on the ground as I was heading to the library."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Ron said. "'Cause if he did-"

"Oh honestly Ron, if he had would I have waited this long to tell you? Now stop interrupting."

Harry threw a glance at Ron who shook his head.

"Anyway, we were both knocked flat on our behinds. I told him he ought to watch where he's going and he told me _I _ought to watch where he's going." Ginny snorted again and Ron elbowed her. "I said, 'Fine, whatever, I don't know why I bother.' He sat on the ground for a moment as I started to collect my things. Then he picked up a couple of my books. I stood up and said, 'You'd better give those back to me.' He stood up and sort of half glared at me. He got all haughty and said, 'Jeez Granger, I was only picking them up to hand them to you. Don't be so high-strung.' The he shoved them in my hands and walked off."

Ginny whistled. "I'd say that qualifies as odd."

"Malfoy showing he has the potential to be a real human being?" Harry said. "More like a miracle."

For the second time in two days, Draco Malfoy found himself on the ground from having run into someone. This time it was a younger Gryffindor, who, as soon as he realized who he'd run into, began sputtering apologies and frantically picking up his books. The boy turned to go, but Draco grabbed him by the shoulder. "Who are you anyway?"

"Dennis Creevey." He was shaking.

_Hmm, Creevy, why is that name familiar?_ "Oh yeah, your brother's that idiot with the camera, right?"

"No!" Dennis said. "I mean, yes. I mean, he takes pictures. He's not an idiot!"

"Mudbloods too, aren't you?"

"No! I mean, um, we're Muggleborns!"

"Right. What year are you in?"

"Third year," Dennis squeaked.

Draco glanced up and saw her coming around the corner in their direction. _Crap._ "Well, shove off then," he said to the younger Creevy brother. "And watch where you're going next time." Dennis scampered off and Draco kept walking. She threw him a surreptitious smile as they passed. _Damn,_ he though. _This is harder than I thought. _

The Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Crossing, 3 p.m., GMT, Friday, June 30th. Two hundred and eighty students filed off the train and through the brick wall, talking about the summer holidays, collecting their trunks and pets, and looking for their parents.

Draco scanned the platform. He mother didn't seem to be there yet. Good. He spotted Parkinson and Nott smooching in a corner. He turned away, disgusted at the sight and at the fact that he had once been interested in her. Draco decided around the end of fourth year that he was definitely not interested. He was convinced that the Yule Ball had done it in. Even so, it had taken him until only a few months ago to convince her of it. She cried her eyes out for twelve hours then was suddenly hanging all over Nott. _Slut._

Draco felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned around. There she was, her smile radiating above everything else in the station. Figuring everyone was too preoccupied to pay any attention to them, Draco leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. Her smile got brighter and she wrapped her arm around his neck in a gentle hug. He pulled her in by the waist. She was at least a head and half shorter than him, making it easy for him to smell the herbal shampoo she used in her long, straight, ebony hair. He played with the silver and green tie that still hung around her neck, undone. "You should have put this away, you know."

She pulled back enough to look at him. "I know. I just got lazy. Besides, if any Muggles see it, they'll just think it's some new fashion, or," she smirked, "that I got it from my boyfriend."

Draco smiled.

"Alex!"

She looked over his shoulder. "I gotta go," she said. "My mum's here."

He let her extricate herself from him and she picked up the handle of her trunk. She gave his hand one last squeeze. "You have my address?"

"Of course."

"We'll set something up. Diagon Alley."

He nodded.

"I've got to go. Bye." She ran off to join her mother.

"Bye," he whispered.

Draco scanned the platform a second time. Still no sign of his mother.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stepped off the train and followed everyone through the gate. "This is so amazing," Ginny said. "I can't believe you guys are gonna be seventh years. Only one more year….One more year and then you're gonna ditch me."

"Oh honestly Ginny, it's not as if you're three years behind us or something," Hermione said.

"I know. It's just – hmm, what's this?" Ginny bent down to pick something up.

Ron looked over. "Hey, isn't that-"

"Trevor!"

"Yep," Harry said.

Neville dropped his trunk and rushed over to Ginny. "Ah, you found him!"

"You know Neville, you really should get a box or something," Ginny said. She placed Trevor in Neville's outstretched hands and let hers linger a moment before pulling away.

"Oh, yeah, um, I know, it, I just, well, my Gran's here, I gotta go. Have a good summer everyone!" He looked at Harry. "Or at least an uneventful one," he added.

Harry rested an arm on Ron's shoulder. "Uneventful. Sure," he said. "Maybe when flying pigs start having snowball fights in hell. Ow." He rubbed his arm where Hermione had smacked it.

"Um, right," Neville said. "Well, bye everyone. Bye Ginny."

"Bye Neville. See you in September!"

"Hey! Harry!"

"Oh. Hey Colin."

"Wow, Harry, I can't believe you only have one year left! It'll be so different after you leave! Course, I'll only have one year left then too. Wow, seven years goes fast. Well, there's my mum. Come on Dennis! Bye Harry, see you in September!"

Harry raised the pitch of his voice and called after Colin quietly so only his friends could hear. "Bye Colin, maybe your voice will have dropped by then!"

Ron sniggered into Harry's back in an effort to hide from Hermione. "Harry Potter and Ron Weasley!" she hissed. "That wasn't funny. And you!" She spotted Ginny laughing too. "He's in your year for goodness sake."

"Yeah," Ginny said. "And no one knows better than the fifth year girls – excuse me, now the sixth year girls – how much Colin's voice needs to drop."

Hermione sighed and let it go. "Oh," she said, "my mum and dad are here." Hermione gave them each a quick hug. "Ron, I'll owl you about when I can come down. And Harry," she said, "we'll get you out of Privet Drive as soon as possible."

Harry gave her another hug. "Thanks Hermione."

"Take care you three. See you soon."

Hermione caught up with her parents, her hair bouncing behind her all the way. Harry looked around for his aunt and uncle. He saw the Thomases leaving and the Boots. Neville was only just leaving as he'd lost Trevor again. Luna Lovegood was on the way out with her father. She caught Harry looking at her and waved. Harry smiled and waved back. She had carrot earrings in today. Down further on the platform he thought he saw Narcissa Malfoy too, but he couldn't be sure.

"Hey Harry," Ron said, nudging him. "Who's that girl talking to Malfoy down there?"

Harry looked and saw the short, cute, black-haired girl Malfoy was hugging.

"That's Alex Dingle," said a voice behind them.

"Huh? Oh hey Dennis," Ron said. "I thought you left. I think your parents are waiting for you."

"She's a Slytherin in my year," Dennis pressed on. "Really quiet, doesn't talk much, even to the other Slytherins it seems."

"Huh," Harry said, no longer interested. "Dennis, aren't those your parents over there?"

"Oh shoot!" He grabbed his trunk. "Gotta run, have a good summer!"

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and a shrug. "Wonder what happened to Pansy?" Ron said.

"Ron, don't you pay attention?" Ginny said. "She started dating Theodore Nott three months ago. But never mind that anyway. Mum and Dad are here."

Ron picked up his trunk. "Suppose you can't come to the Burrow now, can you," he said.

Harry shook his head. "Wish I could."

"Want us to wait with you for your aunt and uncle?" Ginny asked.

"No, you guys go ahead. I'll be fine."

"Well, if you're sure," Ron said. "We'll let you know as soon as we know."

"Right. I'll owl you as soon as I get back."

"See you soon Harry."

Harry waved to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. When they were out of sight, he sat on his trunk and waited.

Harry checked his watch for the ninety-eighth time. The train had come in an hour ago and the Dursleys still hadn't shown up. Harry blew some fringe out of his face and stared around the station. To his left, he was surprised to see that Draco Malfoy was still there, sitting on his trunk. _That's odd,_ Harry thought. _I thought I saw Mrs. Malfoy. But isn't he seventeen? He could Apparate home if he wanted to._ Malfoy looked in his direction and quickly turned away. Harry shrugged. No point making a big deal out of it.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry rolled his eyes. Only one person _that_ bellow belonged to.

"You're bloody lucky you've only got one more year of this ruddy school of yours! Let's go. The traffic from Little Whinging to London is getting more horrific every year and I'm sick to death of it. Move boy!" He gave Harry a shove.

"Ow."

Vernon suddenly turned back. "Who's that?" he demanded of Harry. "Why is he looking at me like that?"

Harry looked where his uncle was pointing. About one hundred feet back, in the same spot he had been, Draco Malfoy had fixed the Dursleys with a look of contempt, disgust, horror, and annoyance. Mostly contempt and disgust. "He's nobody Uncle Vernon," Harry said, trying to block his view and move his uncle along. "Just another boy who goes to my school. Nobody."

"Humph. Another one of the little freaks abandoned by his parents," Petunia said. "I'm not surprised."

Harry kept his mouth shut, but stole one more glance at Malfoy before hurrying after the Dursleys to the car.

Four days. Four days he'd been on Privet drive and already Harry was itching to get out. Fortunately, he'd gotten an owl from Ron saying he could come to the Burrow in another two-and-a-half weeks. That was only three weeks total he'd be here, so Harry figured he could keep his cool until then.

Harry spent his days much as he had other summers: wandering the neighborhood, loitering in the parks, avoiding Dudley and his not-so-little friends. He rounded a corner into East Side park – Dudley usually preferred West Side Park – and heard a couple of familiar voices behind the wall.

"I'm not afraid of you!"

"Well, you should be you filthy little-"

"Hey, what are you doing with that? You can't – you're one of those freaks, aren't you!"

"_What_ did you call me?"

"Hey Dudley," Harry said, "not so tough without all your little friends are you?" _If I make it through this with a straight face,_ Harry thought, _I should go into acting._ Harry sidled up next to Draco Malfoy, who had his wand in Dudley's face. "Better watch it Dudley. Malfoy here goes to my school and he hates you twice as much as I do." At two questioning glances Harry continued. "I hate you because you're an arrogant, stuck-up, spoiled brat. He hates you because you're an arrogant, stuck-up, spoiled brat and a Muggle. If you're not careful, he'll turn you into something...unnatural." Harry smirked.

Dudley's eyes went wide. "But, you're not allowed to do magic outside of school! Dad says so!"

"Sure, _I'm_ not," Harry said, "because I'm not seventeen yet. Malfoy on the other hand….Well, let's just say it's a good thing I won't be here when I do turn seventeen." It suddenly occurred to Harry that that might be one reason he was getting out of Privet Drive earlier than normal. Not that he was complaining.

Dudley backed away several steps and tripped over rock. He scrambled to his feet and took off running. Harry chased him for several steps. "And don't you dare tell your mum and dad about this!" Harry called after him. "Idiot," he muttered. Harry turned back and was greeted with Malfoy's amused expression and approving nod.

"Not bad Potter," he said. "I didn't know you had that kind of viciousness in you. I approve."

"Right," Harry said. "First of all, put that away before somebody sees it."

"As you so kindly pointed out Potter, I'm seventeen. I can do what I want."

"But I'm not. And if you do something, I'll get blamed for it because I'm the only wizard who lives around here. I've almost been kicked out of school twice and I'm sure as hell not about to be expelled because of you. And you'd probably be breaking a secrecy law or two. And second of all," he said, cutting Malfoy off, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Malfoy regarded him a moment, then put his wand back in his pants pocket and turned away. "That's none of your business."

"You show up in my neighborhood and nearly blow my cousin out of the water, that makes it my business."

"I thought you hated your cousin."

"I do. Doesn't mean I want to see him get hurt."

"You're daft Potter."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Look Potter, it's not as if I knew you lived here," Malfoy snapped.

"That doesn't answer my question either."

"Fine! You wanna know, I'll tell you! I had a disagreement with my father, so I decided to remove myself from the situation."

Harry blinked and sat on one of the swings. "You had a fight with your parents so you ran away?"

"Do you listen Potter? I said _disagreement_ with my _father_ so I _removed myself._ That is considerably different than a fight with my parents so I ran away. Malfoys," he said, "don't run away."

Harry bit back a comment about their first year detention in the Dark Forest when they'd run into Voldemort and Malfoy had gone tearing through the Forest screaming his head off. "Fine," he said. "So, how did you get here? Don't you live in London? We're miles from London."

"It's called Apparating Potter. People who are seventeen are allowed to do that. And for your information," he added, "I did it three days ago and you obviously haven't gotten your pretty little head in trouble for it."

Harry looked up. "You've been in Little Whinging for three days? Staying where?" Malfoy turned away again. Harry peered more closely and noticed he looked unusually disheveled. His hair was messy and there were a few twigs and leaves in it. His Muggle-style clothes were rumples, there was dirt on his hands and face, and he seemed, if possible, paler than normal. Harry frowned. "You haven't been sleeping in the park, have you?"

Malfoy whipped around. "I don't have to take this crap from you."

Harry refused to get excited. "Fine. Leave."

"I ought to!"

"Then go."

"I WILL!"

Malfoy plopped down in the next swing. The two of them stared at the ground in silence for several minutes.

"You haven't left yet," Harry finally said. He glanced over and saw Malfoy's jaw clenched and his hands wrapped tightly around the chains of the swing. And he was blinking a lot. _Shit,_ Harry thought. _One thing they don't teach you in school is how to deal with a crying Malfoy. Now what do I do?_ "Um, are…you all right?" Harry asked.

Malfoy nodded once.

"Oh," Harry said.

Harry went back to staring at the ground as that seemed to be the safest course of action at the moment. He wondered what could possibly have been so bad that Draco would leave home and pick Little Whinging to hide in. Bullshit, he hadn't known Harry lived there. And what would Ron and Hermione think when they heard? Ron would whig out for sure and they'd probably come up with all kinds of conspiracy theories –

"I'm pathetic, aren't I."

Harry looked up. "Huh?"

"I said, I'm pathetic…aren't I. Look at me, sitting on this…whatever the hell it is, talking to you, of all people, about what's probably the most personal thing to ever happen in my life. I'm a mess. I'm surprised it hasn't rained in the last few days to complete the drowned rat look."

Harry scuffed at the ground with his foot. "Maybe it's not so bad," he said. "I mean, everyone has problems with their parents sometimes-"

"Because you would know."

Ouch. Harry looked away. _Bastard,_ he thought. _I was only trying to help._ Malfoy mumbled something and Harry's jaw dropped a bit. "What did you say?"

"Sorry," he mumbled again. "I – that came out wrong."

"Yeah, I'll say it did."

Silence fell again and a slight breeze picked up.

"So," Harry said after a moment, "what did happen?" Malfoy remained silent. "Does it have anything to do with that girl I saw you with in the station? Alex?"

"How did you know that?"

"I just saw you," Harry said. "Dennis Creevy knew her name. They're in the same year."

"Dennis Creevy? Oh yeah, him."

"What happened to Pansy?" Harry asked.

"She's a bitch and a slut and I can't stand her annoying voice and her annoying face and her annoying annoyingness and it took me forever to get her to leave me the hell alone and I hate her."

Harry blinked. "Oh."

"Not like Alex," Draco said, suddenly turning to face Harry. "She's really smart; she's taking hard classes like Arithmancy and Ancient Runes and she's really good at stuff like potions. And she says the most amazing stuff, not poetic or anything, but stuff that makes you think, like it's a perspective you never knew existed. And she has the most amazing way of thinking. It's so positive and you just listen to her and you're like 'wow, I can do that,' or this or whatever she's talking about. Not that she never gets mad or frustrated or complains – she does – but she treats everything like a learning experience. She'll be mad for a while then shrug and say, 'Well, now I know,' and moves on to the next thing. And she has the most amazing smile…" Draco leaned into the chains of the swing. "An absolutely incredible smile…" A small smile brushed his lips.

Draco glanced up. "What are you laughing at?"

Harry was grinning. He couldn't help himself when Draco started talking a mile a minute. "I'm not laughing, I'm smiling."

"Fine, what are you smiling about?"

"You, you just – I've never heard you talk like that before."

"Talk like what?"

"All excited like that, and happy, and making it so obvious that you actually care about something…or someone."

Draco actually flushed. "Was it really that obvious?"

"Did you not want it to be?" Harry asked.

"No! I mean, I'd tell anyone if I could, but…"

"Your father doesn't approve," Harry finished.

Draco sighed and turned back around in the swing. "It's a bit more complicated than simple disapproval," he said. "You see, my father's become a bit more…fanatical…lately. It's not just Mud – Muggleborns anymore. It's anyone who isn't a pureblood. I, uh, think that might have something to do with you." He glanced up.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And Alex?" he prompted.

Draco half smiled again. "Her father's a Muggle," he said. "My father found out somehow."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Wow," he said. "That doesn't bother you?"

"No. I remember when she told me," Draco said. "We'd been hanging out for about a month, just late-night talking. She seemed exceptionally nervous one night. I asked her why. She'd been afraid to tell me. Afraid of what I'd say or do. I couldn't take it that she'd been afraid to tell me…afraid of me. I've had people been afraid of me before, but not like that. So I decided I wasn't going to let it bother me again. Sometimes it's hard," he said, nodding to the entrance to the park.

Harry nodded. "Believe me, my cousin has that effect on all decent people." Harry shook his head. "That sure explains a lot."

"Such as?"

"Hermione told us this story in March about how the two of you had knocked into each other in the hall and you actually helped her pick up her books. We'd all thought you'd gone nuts."

"I remember that," Draco said. "I probably wouldn't have that early if I hadn't seen Alex coming around a corner."

"Oh," Harry said. "So, I guess I can see how that would spark a – a disagreement." Draco nodded. "But," Harry continued, "you had to…remove yourself?"

Draco looked up at him. He sank further into the swing and his face hung. "This is why," he said and rolled up his right sleeve.

Harry held his breath. His jaw dropped as Draco finished. He wasn't sure whether to be horrified at what it was or relieved at what it wasn't. He settled on horrified. "He did that to you?" he whispered. Harry reached out for the large, blotchy bruise, but pulled back as Draco rolled his sleeve back down.

"Yeah, among others," Draco said. "I knew enough healing spells to get rid of most of them, but there are still a few."

Harry's mouth was still open. "I had no idea," he said. "That's not common, is it?"

"Common? No," Draco said. "But occasional. Come on Potter," he said at Harry's still shocked expression. "You of all people should know that not everyone's family life is picture perfect."

"No, I know," Harry said. "It's just that, you, you always seemed like you had such a good relationship with your father and I was always a bit envious. That's all."

"You were envious?"

Harry nodded. "It's hard, you know, every time you turn around being told something different about someone you care about but will never meet. First horrible, then perfect, then horrible, then perfect. After a while, after you find that certain events are true and certain events are not, and there's different perspectives on the same event, you begin to realize that the whole thing's a lie and that the truth is buried somewhere in the middle." It was Draco's turn to look wide-eyed. Harry shrugged.

The wind picked up again and Draco shivered. Harry checked his watch. Just after five. The Dursleys would be serving dinner in less than half an hour. He ought to be going. "Oh!" Harry smacked himself in the forehead. "Of course, why didn't I think of it before? Jeez, I'm stupid sometimes."

Draco smirked. "Sometimes?"

"I just thought of where you can stay."

"What? Where?"

"Mrs. Figg's. She's a squib who lives a couple streets over from me. I'm sure she'd let you stay. Come on, let's go so I can get back for dinner on time." Harry took off for the entrance.

Draco jumped up after him. "Harry wait, I still need my st – ohh." Draco swayed and fell to his knees."

"Hm?" Harry turned back. "Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling down in front of him.

Draco nodded. "Just a bit dizzy," he said between heavy breaths.

Harry felt Draco's forehead. Warm. "You probably haven't slept or eaten that much in that last four days, have you?"

Draco shook his head and winced.

Harry resigned himself to being late for dinner. He pulled Draco to his feet and slung his arm over his shoulder. "Well, let's go."

"But, wait. My stuff…"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said. "I'll get it."

It took nearly ten minutes to get to Mrs. Figg's from the park and Draco was dropping faster with every step. He was almost completely passed out when Mrs. Figg answered the door. "Harry! What-"

"Mrs. Figg, I need a favor."


	2. Hedwig

_Filthy blood traitor…She isn't…Be silent…crash…Disgrace…My life…Ungrateful…crack…My choice…Disloyal…Don't…Not come back…_

Draco jerked upwards and for a moment wondered why he was breathing so hard. Then he remembered. He lay back down for a moment, frowned, and sat back up again. He glanced around the unfamiliar room and stood up from the couch he'd been lying on. He wobbled a bit and the previous day's events came flooding back to him. He sat down.

_That didn't really happen,_ he thought. _I didn't really sit on a – whatever the hell that was – and talk to Harry Potter._

A small tabby cat padded into the room. It was halfway across before it noticed him. It stopped to take stock of this strange person sitting on its couch. Draco stared back. The cat apparently regarded Draco as harmless because it continued past the couch and into the next room. Draco followed it. They passed through the dining area and Draco remembered Potter getting all excited about someplace he could stay. _Didn't happen,_ Draco reminded himself.

Draco peered into the kitchen where a plump, middle-aged woman busied herself washing and putting away dishes, clearing food, and coo-cooing to her cat. Draco's hand instinctively went to his back pocket and was relieved to find his wand there. He moved closer and stubbed his toe on the wall. "Ow!"

"Oh!" The woman spun around and Draco backed away. "Relax dear, relax. My name's Arabella Figg." She took his arm and led him back into the dining room. "It's good to see you're up," she said. "You were in a right state when Harry brought you in last night. Didn't have time to explain anything either, late for dinner. Said he'd be back today. Would you like some breakfast, dear?"

Draco opened his mouth and closed it again.

"Eggs, pancakes, or waffles?" Mrs. Figg asked.

"Eggs?"

"Scrambled, boiled or fried?"

"Scrambled?"

"Excellent. You sit tight."

Mrs. Figg continued to ramble on about something in the kitchen, but Draco had stopped paying attention. He felt slightly sick. "Didn't happen," he muttered. "All I did was switch dreams."

Draco wandered back towards the living room and turned into the foyer. His trunk and broom sat against the wall. He fingered the bristles and the smooth black handle. _'Don't worry about it, I'll get it,' he'd said._ Draco shook his head and went back to the dining room.

"Oh, there you are," Mrs. Figg said. "Here, have some orange juice. Eggs'll be another few minutes."

Draco sipped the juice and closed his eyes, savoring the cool tang as it flowed down his throat as if it was the first time he'd ever had orange juice. It was certainly the first time in a couple of days that he'd had anything.

"Here you are dear," Mrs. Figg said, coming back in. "Eat up."

Draco blinked. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but he was pretty sure it hadn't been a full plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. "Um, thank you," he said.

"Eat up, eat up," Mrs. Figg said as she went back into the kitchen. "You just let me know if you want more."

Th eggs were good. Really good. As hungry as he discovered he was though, Draco couldn't make himself eat quickly. It occurred to him to wonder how she'd made them, magically or…not. _Of course not, not if she's a squib._ Not that it mattered.

The front door opened and closed. "Hello?" a voice called out.

Harry poked his head into the dining room. "Oh," he said.

Harry and Draco stared at each other. Draco wondered if Harry had immediately written to Granger and Weasley about what had happened yesterday.

Harry shifted a bit to his left foot. "So…do you feel better?" he asked.

Draco nodded once.

"Well, good."

Harry's gaze floated around the room, but Draco continued to stare. He remembered every bit of yesterday's conversation. _But it's like it wasn't me at all,_ he thought. _Some other version of me, low on sleep, food, taking over while the regular me was slowly slipping away…_ His fork clattered onto the plate. He grabbed it and looked away.

"Oh, Harry, come in," Mrs. Figg said. "Would you like some juice?"

"Sure," Harry said.

"Would you like some eggs too? I made lots of extra."

"Please." Harry nodded.

"Toast and bacon?"

"That'd be great."

Mrs. Figg frowned. "You didn't eat breakfast again, did you?"

Harry shrugged. "Depends on how you define breakfast."

"In other words, you didn't eat breakfast. I'll be back."

_'It depends on how you define good and bad. Definitions come from experience and what you're told growing up. Or, experience changes your definitions. As long as you have logical reasons for your definitions and your beliefs, it's hard for anyone to argue with you, even if they disagree.'_

'_That's pretty insightful for a thirteen-year-old.'_

_'Wish I could say it was mine, but it's not. It's my dad's.'_

Draco's fork fell on his plate again.

He snatched it and glanced up. Harry was peering at him over the plate of scrambled eggs that had appeared in front of him. "What?" Draco said.

Harry shifted in his chair. "N-nothing." He pushed his eggs around a bit and took a bite.

Draco stared at the tablecloth. It was a floral pattern with lilacs and lilies and daisies. He decided he didn't like it. "Did you get in trouble last night?"

"Huh?"

"Last night, you know, for dinner…" Draco decided he hated silence more than he hated the floral tablecloth.

"Oh. Yeah. No big deal."

"Oh."

Harry shrugged. "Not like I care. Not like you could have really called it dinner anyway."

Draco looked at him and waited for more of an explanation.

Harry took a bite of bacon. "When Dudley's on a diet, everyone's on a diet." Harry snorted. "And Dudley really needs to be on a diet."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "So you eat over here all the time?"

"No," Harry said. "Not all the time." He smiled. "Ron and Hermione mail me food. There's a loose floorboard in my room I can store it under."

"They _mail_ you food?"

"Yup."

"That's crazy."

"Beats starving to death."

"I suppose it does." Draco finished off his toast. "So how'd my stuff get here? I'm assuming you're not allowed out at night."

"Sure." Harry smirked. "Doesn't mean I don't _go_ out."

"Yeah, I guess you would be good at the whole sneaking out thing. If you can get out of school, then getting past a few Muggles wouldn't be too hard." Draco shook his head. "Everyone thinks you're the good one, but it's just a big lie, isn't it."

Harry shrugged. "You do what you gotta do."

"You'd have made an interesting Slytherin."

"Hat wanted to put me there," Harry said.

Draco looked up. "Really? Why didn't it?"

"No rule says you can't argue with the hat," Harry said.

"Argue?" Draco said. "You can't argue. Wait, you probably requested Gryffindor because you'd already met Weasley, right?"

"Not exactly," Harry said. "What I'd said was 'Not Slytherin,' because," Harry smiled, "I'd already met you."

Draco frowned. "Oh." He tapped the side of his orange juice glass with his fork.

Harry traced the tablecloth with his finger. "So…do you need anything?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno, like, anything, whatever…"

"Oh. No."

"Because," Harry said, "my aunt's making me help her weed the garden this morning, so I have to go back in a few minutes."

"Oh. No."

Harry got up to say goodbye to Mrs. Figg. Draco played with his fork. _Would he let me do it? Might…_

Harry came back in the dining room. He loitered by his chair for a moment. "So…I guess I'll see you later?" he said. Draco didn't say anything. Harry kicked the ground with his toe and was very interested for a moment in a dark spot on the wall. He kept walking.

Draco heard him walk through the living room and through the foyer. The front door opened. He jumped and ran. "Hey wait!" he said.

Harry was mostly out the door. "Yeah?"

Draco stood in the foyer feeling a bit stupid. "It – I – oh, nevermind," he said. "Nevermind, forget it." He turned back to the kitchen.

"No, what is it?" Harry said coming back into the house.

"It's nothing, forget it." Draco waved it off.

"It's not," Harry insisted. "What?"

Draco leaned against the doorframe, his back still to Harry. "I just – see I, I promised Alex," he turned around, "that I'd write her when I got home. Course, that was five days ago…" He shrugged.

"Oh," Harry said. "Yeah, sure, I can send Hedwig over in a little while."

"Hedwig?"

"My snowy owl," Harry said. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Draco said. "Um, thanks."

"Sure," Harry said. "But don't be too offended if she nips you. She, ah, probably won't be too happy about the job."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "So, what, do you complain about me to your owl?"

Harry gave him a shrug and a sheepish smile.

Draco nodded. "I see. Well I, I'll um, try not to give her a hard time."

Harry smiled. "Great. I'll send her over later this afternoon."

"Sure."

"See you later."

"Yeah."

Harry closed the door behind him.

_Draco stood inside a lower-floor sitting room of his house. His parents were there too, but they didn't seem to notice him. His father was reading the newspaper and his mother was sipping tea and reading a book. His brows knitted together and he stepped into the room. One usually creaky board remained silent. He could see through the door behind him; he saw himself on the other side. _

_Draco frowned. How could he be on both sides of a door? His other self opened the door and walked past him. The board creaked, but his parents still didn't seem to notice him. His other self stood staring into the room. _I'm back,_ Draco thought. "I'm back," his other self said. _

"_The train came in over an hour ago," his father said without looking up from the newspaper. "Where have you been?"_

_Draco saw himself frown. "Mother usually meets me-"_

"_You're seventeen, aren't you?"_

"_Yes, but-"_

"_You can Apparate, can't you?"_

"_Yes, but-"_

"_Then you've no excuse to be late."_

_His other self opened his mouth but didn't say anything. _Not again,_ Draco thought. He shook himself. _Not again.

"_Doesn't matter," his father said. "I know where you've been."_

_Draco watched himself close his mouth and cock his head. "I've been at the train station," he said._

"_Lie!" _

_His father stood up with such force that several items fell off the table in front of him. "You've been taking up with that mongrel Mudblood girl!" He strode forward and both Draco and his other self backed away. _

"_What?" his other self said._

"_Do not play stupid with me, boy. I know all about this girl's filth."_

_Something seemed to click with his other self. "You don't understand," he said. "Her mother's a pureblood-"_

"_Blood traitor! Who has taken up with a filthy Muggle and had a mongrel child!"_

"_No!" his other self shouted. "She isn't-"_

"_Be silent when I speak to you boy!" He slammed his fist into the wall and a mirror crashed to the ground and shattered. _

_Draco whipped around and squeezed his eyes shut. A piece of the glass nicked his shoulder. _Ow…_ He heard himself cry out, but the sound was faint. His shoulder still hurt. Then his brain caught up with him. _How could I have caught any of the glass if I'm not really there…?

He opened his eyes and lifted his head off the desk he was sitting behind. He felt another nip of pain on his shoulder. He went to rub it and finally noticed the large white owl perched next to him. "Oh," he said. "You must be – what's your name? Hedwig?"

She ruffled herself.

Draco rubbed his shoulder and frowned at her. "That hurt, you know," he said.

She ruffled herself and turned her head lazily to look out the window.

"Cheeky, aren't you."

She hooted out the window.

He watched her follow the path of a squirrel in the tree. "Still," he said, "you are a beautiful bird. Potter's got good taste."

She turned back and puffed herself up.

Draco grinned. "And you've got an ego! "Like wizard, like bird, eh?" He reached out to stroke her feathers, but drew back when she made a half-hearted attempt to nip him again. "Okay, okay, I get it," he said. "You like him and you don't like me. Yeesh."

Draco stood up from the desk, decided he didn't really like standing at the moment, and sat on the bed. He felt his forehead. Warm, and he had a bit of a headache. He'd take it over feeling like he had yesterday though. He'd been too ill to realize how ill he was. Thinking back on it though…another few days and he may well have died in that park. _That's morbid,_ he thought. _Think about something else._

He ran his hand over the thick comforter of the double bed that was part of Mrs. Figg's spare bedroom. She'd shown him the room after a much-needed shower. He'd never showered without some kind of magical something before. All in all, it wasn't really as different as he thought it'd be. He wondered what Alex's shower was like, in a Muggle apartment with two witches and a Muggle. He wondered if she ever –

Nope. He forced himself to stop that line of thought before he made it all the way to imagining Alex _in_ the shower. She was only fourteen.

He examined the matching, oversized pillows that sat at the head of the bed. Each one was plenty big enough. They looked firm but soft, comfortable and enticing. _I bet if I laid down right now,_ he thought, _I'd fall right asleep… _He absently noted that his eyes were slowly closing.

His eyes shot open and he rubbed his face with his hands. "No, no, no." That was a line of thought he definitely didn't want to continue. He lived it once, he didn't need to see it again.

He forced himself to stand and felt a twinge of pain in his stomach. He sat down at the desk. He needed to finish his letter to Alex anyway. Hedwig was being so patient. Draco reached out and this time Hedwig let him pet her. She was still watching that squirrel. "Go get the squirrel," he said to her. "I'm not finished yet anyway." She hooted and launched out the window. Draco watched her swoop over the tree, dive bomb the squirrel, and carry it away.

Draco turned back to the letter and reread the last few paragraphs. He felt bad that he wasn't giving her a whole lot of detail, as he continued writing, but this thing was long enough as it was. He gave her the gist of what happened and why he hadn't written earlier, though nothing about what his father had actually said about her and her parents. He told her he was in Little Whinging staying somewhere safe, but he didn't say with whom, and he didn't say Harry Potter lived in the neighborhood. He wasn't sure what her opinion on Harry was. His first inclination was typical Slytherin, but Alex was hardly a typical Slytherin in her attitude. He decided to leave it out anyway. He assured her he was all right, told her that he probably wouldn't be able to meet her in Diagon Alley, and said he missed her like crazy. He spent a good couple of paragraphs on that one.

Hedwig came back as he was addressing the envelope. "Enjoy the squirrel?" he asked. She hooted and fluffed herself. Draco smiled.

He started to write the return address, but let his quill hover over the paper. A sudden wave of paranoia struck him. They wouldn't be intercepting owl posts looking for him, would they? He didn't want to get Alex in trouble. But why would they intercept Harry's owl looking for him? _Because it's Harry Potter's owl,_ he thought. Unless they didn't know what Harry's owl looked like. _Except they do,_ he thought, _because I told my father five or six years ago he had a snowy owl. _

He wondered, then, if he should send it by Muggle post. It was the same address, he supposed. But Hedwig was here, all ready to go. And his father knew her father was a Muggle so they could watch that too…

"Oh, knock it off," he said aloud. "Stop being so damned paranoid. If they actually wanted to find you, they'd have done it by now." He stroked Hedwig's breast feathers. "You're too smart to get caught by them anyway, aren't you." She cocked her head at him.

Draco settled for leaving off his name and just writing 'Number 8 Stonewall Road, Little Whinging, Surrey.' He gave Hedwig the envelope. "Alex Dingle," he said. "Apartment 424, 515 East Boulevard, London." She gave him a gentle nip on the sleeve and took off. He went and sat on the bed again, and this time he let himself fall asleep


	3. Mail Call

Harry and Draco sat on Mrs. Figg's back deck. Draco was pushing around some pebbles on the ground with his feet and Harry was playing with his wand. "I hope this isn't how you spend your entire summer," Draco said. "Because this is pretty boring."

"There isn't anything to do around here," Harry said. "Except the library, that's walking distance. Upside to that, Dudley never goes there. But you'd have to drive to anything else – or Apparate. But I end up going to Ron's at some point anyway so I get my summer essays done and resolve to be bored until then."

"They actually have space for you?" Draco asked. Harry stopped playing with his wand and frowned at him. Draco looked away. He really hadn't meant for that to come out so belittling.

"Their place really isn't that small, you know," Harry said. "Even when all seven kids were there, there were no more than two people to a room. With Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the twins out of the house, there's lots of empty space. Though I still sleep in Ron's room and Hermione in Ginny's room when we go."

Draco raised an eyebrow and resisted the temptation to ask Harry if he had a girlfriend or if he didn't need one. "So what do you come back here at all for?" he asked instead. "You obviously hate it."

Harry looked at his feet and started playing with his wand again. Draco watched him out of the corner of his eye. The longer the silence lasted, the more curious he became. He opened his mouth to press the issue, but he closed it again.

"They're family," Harry finally said.

Draco waited for more of a response, but it never came. It didn't make any sense. Family, schmamily. Sure, his parents were family, but at the moment he found it completely inimical to his continued well bring to be anywhere in the near vicinity of that house. There was no good he could see from Harry staying in this magic-forsaken place when he could just as easily be someplace he'd rather be anyway. But he wasn't going to get any more of a response either, so he let it go. _So, he doesn't completely trust me,_ Draco thought. _No big surprise there. I guess the converse is true anyway._ "So when do you get to leave?"

Harry leaned back on his elbows. "Usually it's not 'til after my birthday, but this year it's earlier. Two weeks from yesterday and I'm out of here."

_That soon?_ "Oh."

Harry looked at him. "Doesn't mean you can't stay," Harry said. "I mean, I don't know where else – I mean, I'm sure Mrs. Figg wouldn't have a problem with it."

Draco leaned back too. "Yeah. Right."

"I could give you Ron's address," Harry continued. "If you used Hedwig it'd go straight to me without filtering through anyone else. No one would know the difference, especially if you didn't put your name on it."

Draco looked up into the July sky. The sun was so good at evaporating puddles, maybe it could try something smaller. Draco squinted. Coming out of the glare of the sun, a small puffball, no bigger than the wingspan of a snitch, was bobbing up and down. It looked like it was desperately trying to carry both a letter and a small package. He pointed. "What the hell is that?"

Harry looked. "Uh oh," he said. "Hedwig will be along any second."

Just as Harry finished speaking, Hedwig swooped down and snatched the letter and the package from the puffball, sending it tumbling through the air. A gust of wind caught the out-of-control bird and drilled it straight into Draco's chest. He caught it; it fit in the palm of his hand. If it was at all dazed it didn't show it. It kept hopping and twitter-hooting in his hand.

Hedwig, meanwhile, had perched herself next to Harry and presented him with her winnings. "That really wasn't necessary," he told her. "He'd have made it."

Hedwig ruffled herself angrily at him and took off. Harry shook his head and looked at Draco. "Hedwig doesn't like Pig very much."

Draco held up the puffball that had settled down in his hand. "Pig?" he said.

Harry grinned. "Short for Pigwidgeon. Ginny named him. He's Ron's owl."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "This is Weasley's owl?"

"He was a gift," Harry said.

"Huh," Draco said. "At least he doesn't have an ego, like your bird."

Harry snorted. "No kidding. What'd you tell her to find that out?"

"That she was beautiful and you had good taste."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, that'd do it," he said. "Though, I wasn't actually the one who bought her."

"No? Who did?"

Harry smiled. "You really wanna know?"

Draco suddenly had the feeling he didn't, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Who?" he asked again.

Harry's grin got bigger. "Hagrid," he said.

_I knew I didn't want to know,_ Draco thought. He looked down at Pigwidgeon, who cocked his head at him and twitter-hooted. _If he even attempts to comment, he's gonna get whopped a good one._

"That was my eleventh birthday," Harry said. "Hedwig was my very first birthday present."

Draco looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry was leaning against a deck post with a small smile on his face. He was looking up at Hedwig who had perched herself in a nearby tree to preen. "Your very first birthday present?" Draco asked. "On your eleventh birthday?"

Harry looked down at his hands. "Well, the first one I remember. My uncle Vernon once tossed a pair of his old socks my way, but that hardly counts. I'm sure my parents and Remus and Sirius got me stuff when I turned one, but I don't remember it."

_Sirius? Sirius Black?_ Draco wondered. He stroked Pigwidgeon who had settled down for a nap in his hand. _Wow,_ he thought. _I don't know what I'd do if my birthday had been ignored for nine years. And I'll bet no Christmas presents either. And probably his idiot cousin got lots of each…_ Draco frowned as Mrs. Figg's tabby came trotting across the lawn. He'd always gotten a lot of stuff for his birthday and Christmas too. He'd figured out a long time ago that his parents never picked any of it out themselves, just paid for it. But he was starting to doubt whether that amounted to the same thing. The tabby stretched out and curled up next to Draco. "So are you gonna open your package, or what?"

"Hmm?" Harry looked at him. "Oh yeah." Harry carefully unwrapped the long thin box. Inside were two sticks, about two-thirds the length of an average wand. They were a deep maroon and gradually tapered to a rounded point on one end. Around the fat end, which was just under a centimeter in diameter, was a one-inch gold-colored band with a simple floral design in maroon, black, and silver. Harry frowned.

"Chopsticks?" Draco said.

"I'm glad you know what they are," Harry said.

"It probably says so in the letter."

"Huh? Oh yeah, the letter." Harry opened the envelope and Draco rolled his eyes. Harry skimmed the letter and then started to read it aloud. "'Dear Harry,'" he read. "'Hope everything's been going well and you haven't gotten too bored. Make sure you get all your summer essays done though because we've got stuff to do when you get here, like our Apparating class. I could have gone to mine already, but I decided to wait for you. What'd you have to be born so late for anyway? You know, if you'd been born a month earlier, you could have saved a lot of people a lot of problems.'"

Harry snorted and shook his head and kept reading. "'Just kidding. Anyway, about that box. I figured it was small and light enough that I could use Pig. I hate using Errol. Some third cousins of my mum's recently came back from a trip to Japan and they thought the best thing to get us was fifteen pairs of chopsticks. Mum and Dad didn't know what to do with them all, so each of us kids got a pair of our own. Mum suggested I send a pair each to you and Hermione. Consider it an early birthday present. I bet Hermione already knows, but if you figure out how to use them, let me know. You'll be here before she will and Ginny and I are stuck. Anyhow, take care and we'll see you in a couple weeks. Ron.'"

Draco scratched the tabby behind the ears. _I can't believe he read that whole thing to me_, he thought. _I wonder when the last time was that I got a letter like that?_ "Can I see your chopsticks?" he asked.

Harry handed him the box. "So you must have taken this Apparating class."

Draco examined the chopsticks. _These are nice_. "Yeah, back in February. There was a Saturday class the day after my birthday, so my father came to school on Friday evening and brought me back on Sunday."

"What's it like?"

"It's ten hours of my life I'll never get back for something that could just as easily have been done in two." Harry's eyes went wide and Draco smirked. "They start each class at eight in the morning and you sit for two-and-a-half hours and listen to some guy lecture about Apparating."

Harry made a face. "Two-and-a-half hours on how to Apparate? Is it really that hard?"

"No," Draco said. "Not 'how to Apparate.' Just on Apparating. Like history and other stupid stuff. I don't know, I didn't pay that much attention. Nobody does. It's so boring."

"That's awful," Harry said.

"Oh, it gets worse," Draco said. "After that, you get a half-hour break and then…you sit for another two-and-a-half hours of lecture." Harry made a horrified face. "Then, after another half-hour break, they spend three hours actually teaching you how to do it. Most people pick it up at the hour-and-a-half mark. I got it in an hour. But you have to stay there for the full three hours because they don't start testing until the fourth hour. It takes five minutes to test, but they make you stay for the whole hour because they don't tell you if you passed or not until the end, even though it's fairly easy to figure out for yourself anyway."

"That's crazy," harry said, "Do they ever test you on the lecture stuff?"

"Nope. You just have to sit there."

"That's crazy," Harry said again. "What happens if you fail?"

"Trust me, you're not going to fail."

"Some people must fail."

Draco wondered if he was worried about Weasley. "There was this women – mid 20s or so – who was there for the second time that month," he said. "It was pretty obvious why she hadn't passed. She's a very nervous woman."

"Nervous?"

"She has all these annoying nervous habits." He laughed. "There was this kid sitting next to me. We had a good direct view of this woman from where we were sitting. We were so bored, so we entertained ourselves by counting how many nervous habits she had, giving them all multiple names, and counting how many of each she did within one minute and ten minutes and how many of all of them she did in one and ten minutes." As he talked, Draco picked up a small handful of pebbles from the ground and put them on the deck. He picked them up one by one with the chopsticks and put them in the box. "We kept track of which ones were her favorites. We basically sat there and made fun of her for five hours. It was really that boring."

"You're good at that," Harry said.

Draco had emptied the box and started over. "What, the chopsticks or making fun of people?"

Harry looked away. "I'd meant the chopsticks, but…"

Harry didn't finish his sentence and Draco supposed he didn't have to. _Like you've never made fun of anyone,_ he thought. Still, he had a point. Draco emptied the box again and returned the chopsticks to it. He looked at Pigwidgeon who was still sleeping in his lap. _Why does this have to be so damn hard? _he thought.

"So, how _do_ you do it?" Harry asked.

"What, make fun of people?" Draco asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, jeez, the chopsticks. I know how to make fun of people, I have done it before."

Draco pulled the chopsticks out again. "Who do you make fun of?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "Don't ask."

Draco thought he had a pretty good idea what the answer was anyway and didn't press it. He held the chopsticks in his right hand. "See, one goes here, in the webbing of the thumb and pressed against the ring finger, almost like you're holding a quill. And the other one sits on the tip of the thumb and is guided by the tips of the index and middles fingers." He handed the pair to Harry. "It's like a jaw with one stationary part and one pivoting part, except that in this case, the pivoting part is on top."

Harry frowned and tried to position the chopsticks one at a time. He got the first one situated all right, but he kept dropping the top one. "People manage to eat with these things?" he said.

Draco reached out and physically repositioned Harry's hands. "Deeper in to the webbing and tighter against the ring finger," he said. "And looser on the tips of your thumb, index and middle fingers."

Harry pivoted the top stick up and down from his grip in the middle. "Hey, cool," he said.

Draco pulled Harry's hand further up the sticks. "And hold them up around the gold band. They're easier to control that way and it's more polite."

"More polite?" Harry said. "How do you know? Where'd you learn how to do this anyway?"

"When I was, I dunno, seven I guess," Draco said, "there was some official person from Japan visiting the Ministry and he hosted a dinner at his hotel. My father was invited and had no intention of bringing me, but the official insisted that my father bring his whole family. At the time we had a - well, uh – well, we had a human, um, servant. Her job, basically, was to keep and eye on me while my parents were off doing whatever else. So my father gave her a week to teach me anything I needed to know about Japanese table etiquette. She didn't know anything about it either, so she read what she could, filtered it down to me, and we figured out the chopsticks together. I haven't used them since then."

"Wow," Harry said. "So, you're seventeen, what does she do now?"

"She was fired not too long after that," Draco said. "We had several servants like that, never for more than a year or two at a time. My father fired the last one when I was ten, saying I was old enough to look after myself and anything I needed I could get from the house elves." He pushed the handful of pebbles and the empty box towards Harry.

"Wow," Harry said again. "Wow." He tried to pick up a pebble and put it in the box, but he lost it. "Nuts."

Draco watched him as he continued to practice, with moderate success. _This is so bizarre_, he thought. _If I weren't living this, I'd never believe it._ He leaned back again and followed a couple clouds as they floated by. _It's kind of embarrassing._ It had never really occurred to him before to think about how much different his lifestyle was from other people's, except maybe the Weasleys. Sure, he knew he was exaggerating when he made fun of them, but he also hadn't thought he was that far off either. So much for that. Harry's lack of comment had been telling. There was just no basis in his life for him to be able to say anything.

Out from behind one of the clouds Draco was watching flew a bird about twice the size of a quaffle. "Mail call," Draco said.

"Hmm?" Harry looked up and dropped another pebble. "Nuts."

The bird flew low over the yard and dropped a letter in Draco's lap, right on Pigwidgeon's head. Startled out of his nap, Pig flipped up and started flying circles around Draco and Harry's heads. Annoyed, the tabby made a swipe at him when he flew low. "Hyper, isn't he?" Draco said.

"Pretty much why Hedwig doesn't like him," Harry said. "Who's the letter from?"

Draco turned the envelope over. "Alex."

"Hey, great, she got back to you," Harry said. "That must be her owl then," he said, indicating the dark brown owl that had perched on the deck post next to Draco. Hedwig had flown down from the tree and perched next to Harry. She eyed the newcomer suspiciously. "Aren't you going to open it," Harry asked.

Draco looked over the front of the envelope. Alex had light, elegant handwriting. He'd read several of her essays and nothing in her handwriting ever betrayed her mood. He let one hand run over the bumpy, waxy seal on the back, while the other stood poised to break it. _Well, what's the matter with you?_ he thought. _Open it already._ He hesitated a few more seconds then held it out to Harry. "You open it," he said.

"What? Me? Why?"

Draco glanced away, then back, but didn't say anything. He held Harry's gaze until Harry set the chopsticks aside and took the envelope. Keeping half an eye on Draco, Harry broke the seal and pulled out the letter. Without unfolding it, he handed the whole ensemble back to Draco. Draco looked from Harry to the envelope and back. "You wanted me to open it," Harry said. "So I did."

Draco took it and held it in his lap. He exhaled.

"What are you afraid of?"

Draco looked around to see where the tabby had gone. "I'm not afraid." It seemed all the owl activity had sent the tabby to a sunny spot on the other side of the deck. _Liar,_ he thought. _But then, you're good at that too, aren't you._

Draco felt the letter slide out of his hand. He looked. Harry had taken it back and unfolded it. He read for about two seconds, refolded it, and held it back out to Draco. "I only read part of the first paragraph," Harry said. "Seems okay to me."

Draco accepted it. He gave himself a mental good swift kick in the butt, opened it, and read to himself.

_Draco, I am so sorry! I had no idea this would get you in so much trouble. Are you sure you're all right? I know you said you're somewhere safe, but you're not alone, are you? You could always come back to my parents' apartment if you needed to, though I understand if you don't feel good about being in London right now. I feel really awful about this. It never occurred to me that it would be such an issue, and I feel a though it should have._

_My parents were really shocked by the whole thing. I didn't tell them everything you told me (and I feel safe in thinking you didn't tell me everything, but that's okay). My mother said she only knows your parents by reputation, so she wasn't surprised at their reaction to us. But one thing she has heard from people is that they sort of spoil you, so she was really amazed that they would come down so hard on you like they did. I guess I don't disagree. But, I have to say, I looked up where Little Whinging is and it's pretty far from London. You've been there for a week. Maybe I'm being naïve, but I would think that even though they're_ _angry with you, they must be worried about where you've been all week, that you could be hurt or lost or something. If it were me, I'd be going out of my mind and to heck with why I was angry. I don't know. Maybe I'm being stupid._

_I just miss you and I'm worried about you. I hope you get a chance to write again. My owl (actually she's my mum's owl), Aurora, will stick around for a few days if you want to use her. Speaking of owls, the one you used is really beautiful. Does she belong to someone you're staying with? There's no way she's a public owl. She's really smart too. She wouldn't let my mother take the letter, just me because it had my name on it. Just curious, no big deal. _

_Take care, stay safe. September will be here before you know it. I miss you._

_-Alex_

Draco refolded the letter and held it against his chest. He closed his eyes as her words replayed in his head. He listened to the _plink, plink_ of pebbles being dropped into a cardboard box, and the occasional _plunk_ of one falling on the deck. "Sounds like you're getting better," he said.

"So what's the good news?" Harry asked.

Draco opened his eyes and smiled. He looked at Harry. "She said Hedwig was beautiful and smart."

Harry gave him a mock frown. "She didn't tell Hedwig that, did she? Because between you and me, she's got a big enough head already. Ow!" He ducked and rubbed his head where Hedwig had pecked at him. Harry made a face at her. "You know, one of these days you're going to do that and draw blood," he said. Hedwig hooted and switched her perch to the railing beside Draco. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," Harry said. "You like him and you don't like me. S'okay, I can take it." He rubbed his head again. "You know, I think you did draw blood," he mumbled.

Draco couldn't help it; he started to laugh. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Huh? Yeah." Harry waved it off. "It'll take more than one snowy owl to take me out, I'll tell you that."

Draco grinned. He believed it.

The back door opened and Mrs. Figg poked her head out. The owls scattered. "Everything all right out here?"

"Fine," Harry said.

"Good, good. Harry, it's almost a quarter after five. You should get going."

"Shoot." Harry emptied the pebbled from the box and packed up his chopsticks and his letter from Ron. He looked at Draco. "All right?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah."

Harry smiled and gave him a small pat on the shoulder. "Okay. See you tomorrow." He stood and cut through the house to the front door.

"We'll be eating in a bit too," Mrs. Figg said.

"Thanks," Draco said, and she followed Harry to see him out.

Draco opened Alex's letter and started to reread it. The owls all gone, the tabby returned. He crawled into Draco's lap and curled up, purring softly. _What's with these animals?_ he wondered. He rubbed him behind the ears and head as he read, going back to the beginning each time he finished.


End file.
